Page 6 of Brick Wall

Annie

I ’m freshly showered and ready for the day. I grab an apple from the kitchen as Goldie enters the room.

“Hey! I gave Bryce your phone number. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah, that’s fine. It’ll be good to have in case I need it.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Also, one of his teammates asked for it. I said you wouldn’t mind,” she says while wagging her eyebrows up and down, silently saying, get it, girl.

“Um, who?” I don’t love that random men have my phone number, but I guess it could be worse than a hopefully single football player.

“I forget, actually.” Doubtful. Goldie remembers everything. She shrugs and returns to her bedroom, probably so I won’t interrogate her.

I can’t help but wonder if Sebastian asked for it. Who else would it be?

A few hours later, I had my answer: Feet .

At least, I assume it’s Feet because I’m at work when I receive a text from a random number with a hand wave and a foot emoji.

Me: Hi, Feet? Feet: Who else?

Who else, indeed.

Feet: *basketball emoji* *angel emoji*

I can usually speak the language of confusing text messages pretty well, thanks to coaching college girls and being in group chats with my brothers, but I’m lost, so I respond with a question mark because I don’t know what else to say.

Feet: play bball at 7? *prayer emoji*

Instead of responding right away, I call Goldie because I have her to thank for my current confusion.

“Hello?” Goldie answers on the second ring.

“Why is Feet asking me to play basketball tonight?” At least, maybe?

“Because you were recruited to play in their co-ed game?”

“Um, what?” I do not recall such a thing.

“Feet said that you were playing in their spring basketball pickup game. You were talking about it at the bar that night you met…” she lingers on that last word for a second.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Why would I want to play basketball with him?” Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I automatically know how to play basketball. I hate that stereotype.

Although my point is probably moot because I excel at basketball, but I barely talked to Feet. They should change his name to fungus because this man gives me a headache.

“Because you like sports? Because you’re tall? Because they need a girl to play? Because you are a giver and like to meet new people?”

That last one is untrue, and Goldie knows it since her voice goes exceptionally high toward the end.

At my lack of response, she adds, “Bryce will be there. A few guys play basketball at Quinn’s during the off-season.”

Well, that’s interesting. I wouldn’t mind going to Quinn Banks’ house to play basketball, not that I know him, of course. I would only know Bryce and, well, Feet, I guess.

“All right, thanks for the details. Are you coming to watch?”

“Nah, I have a movie marathon calling my name.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll catch you later.”

With that, I hang up and notice that Feet texted me again.

Feet: i’m not hittin on you Feet: we need a girl in order to play Feet: this is not a date

I guess that clarifies the situation. Not that I’m interested in Feet like that. He’s at least five years younger than me, probably more.

I text Feet back that I’ll play tonight because, well, I don’t really know why after those delightful texts. I guess I’m bored, and it would be nice to get out. He responds with a thumbs-up and an emoji that…I have no idea, actually.

* * *

“Thanks for coming. I couldn’t get any other girls to play. You’re the only one that said yes on short notice,” Feet says as I open the door to his little red sports car as he picks me up at the curb in front of my place. I plop down on the seat in front of him, shutting the door behind me.

Feet really knows how to charm a girl.

“Ah, well, I’ll do my best. I haven’t played basketball in years.” It’s true. I played basketball when I was younger, but when I found volleyball in middle school, I focused entirely on that.

“You’ll be fine. It’s a casual pickup game, but we need at least one girl in order to play. You don’t really have to do much.”

All right then.

We drive a few miles west of Boston, where there’s a little more land and privacy, and pull up to a beautiful…mansion. It’s the biggest house I’ve ever seen, well, in person. That’s if you count my eighth-grade Washington D.C. field trip to tour the White House, which I do not.

There are a few cars and trucks in front of the house already, which is probably why Feet doesn’t ring the doorbell. He opens the front door of this beautiful brick house and walks towards the back of it. I’m following him like a lost puppy.

We head out back to where there is an amazing full indoor basketball court, and I see the guys are warming up and shooting the shit.

Feet introduces me to Quinn Banks, the Revs’ starting quarterback and owner of this magnificent house I’m currently in.

I’m introduced to two more guys, both players from the Revs I haven’t met yet, but I do slightly recognize them from my TV.

“We are waiting for one more,” Quinn says. “Ah, here he is.” I turn around and…see it’s Sebastian. Of course it is.

His back is currently facing me as he greets a few of the guys from the opposing team.

He’s wearing a basic white T-shirt that clings to his biceps, and his navy shorts hang low on his hips.

However, what I notice the most from this angle is his calves, those thick, beautiful calves.

Why are thick calves so dang sexy on a guy?

Don’t get me wrong, I am in a room with many good-looking men, some even shirtless.

However, there’s something about Sebastian that draws me in.

His simple white T-shirt is hugging his body in all the right spots, showing off his strength.

I’ve always loved a strong, solid man. THICC is my personal preference, and Sebastian has it in waves.

I’ve never been attracted to or dated a pretty boy. Don’t get me wrong, I still can appreciate the beauty of pretty boys, but I prefer a guy a lot more masculine—more masculine than me.

I’m not sure the exact reason, but I’ve always felt a little less female than my fellow women. No one has ever called me masculine before, at least not to my face, but it has been an insecurity of mine.

Maybe it was because, without fail, I was the tallest in my class, often by a full head or more. Maybe it was because I was often the only girl in a group of brothers and their annoying friends. I’m not sure. I’d like to think I’ve dropped my insecurities of my youth, but some days I’m not so sure.

My eyes trail Sebastian’s body in appreciation as he takes a sip of his water. Sebastian is all man. A gorgeous, strong, solid man .

He must sense me staring, because he slowly turns around. He’s trimmed his blond beard since the last time I saw him after his lecture, and man, he looks good. I need to stop ogling him.

I’m waiting for him to say, “What the hell is she doing here?” but instead, he gives me a little nod when we make eye contact as he turns to greet a nearby teammate.

I guess he meant that apology.

I hoped that would be the case. It would be nice to start fresh with this man since it appears we’ll be running into each other, especially if Goldie and Bryce remain dating.

“Ready?” Quinn dribbles the ball to half-court and throws it at an opponent.

The five men line up on the court, and I watch the other female make her way to the bench and sit, so I do the same on the other side of the room.

It’s a pickup game, but you’d think it was the playoffs with how competitive some of the guys are. I guess that’s why they are professional athletes.

I finally get tapped in during the second quarter. I hate sitting on the bench and watching everyone else play. I want in, and I make myself known a minute in when I steal the ball away from a tired player and pass up the court to Quinn who gets a jump shot for two.

I’m able to get a few more steals before they change their defense strategy. They shoot the ball and miss. Sebastian rebounds the ball and passes up the court to me, where I do an easy lay-up for two.

Feet high-fives me, and Sebastian gives me a small smile from afar.

Basketball isn’t my favorite sport, but I definitely need to play it more. I miss it. Basketball tends to remind me of my dad and family.

At the end of the game, I’m sitting on the bench chugging water. Sebastian grabs his water and sits down next to me, sweating everywhere. “Surprised to see you here tonight,” he says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, Feet said you need a girl in order to play.”

He raises his eyebrow in confusion. “I’m pretty sure it was a line to get you here.”

I grab my phone out of my duffel bag next to me and pull up the message. “That’s not what he said. He literally wrote, ‘I’m not hitting on you. We need a girl in order to play. This is not a date.’” I read Feet’s text verbatim and lift my phone up to show Sebastian.

He grabs the phone out of my hand and does a great big belly laugh when he rereads it. His laugh is deep and sexy, and I can’t help but laugh with him.

Sebastian returns the phone and says, “Wow, what an idiot.”

“Thank you, but I’m pretty sure his nickname gives that away.”

“True.” He gives me a small smile in return.

“So, this is a co-ed basketball league,” I say, more as a statement than a question.

“I don’t know.” He reaches to the back of his neck with his hand and scratches it. “I just show up, but there’s at least one girl here now that I think of it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Also, true, but not nearly as much as these other guys.”